


Pie

by Angelology



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: GTA AU, M/M, Thanks Jos for the wonderful title
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:20:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5051770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelology/pseuds/Angelology
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inbox Game: "You can't protect me", Geovin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pie

**Author's Note:**

> Sent in on Tumblr - figured it was long enough to upload here too :')

 

 He’s known as many things.

In the criminal world, he’s known as The Fake AH Crew’s thief, the hacker. Sometimes put onto explosives, and into the more public eye, where he’s known as the Renegade due to his overly excessive destructive tendencies.

But most importantly, he’s known as Mark Nutt, if anyone manages to go beyond his usual names. And that name hides him more than his bleached hair, more than the stupidly large designer sunglasses he’s never seen without.

But to the Fake AH Crew, and very,  _very_ few others, he’s known as Gavin Free. Not by choice, really, to have to hide his real name, but when he had joined the world of criminals and met Burnie Burns, the man insisted he had another identity.

After all, it wasn’t for his own sake, but to those he still had ties to that weren’t involved with his side of the world. People like his family - like _Dan -_ who were at serious risk if anyone decided to pull on Gavin Free’s thread. Those in his position, with his kind of ties, and decided to keep their name, usually didn’t have their ties for very much longer.

It took years for him to tell the Fake AH Crew his name, though. Nights upon nights, months upon months, of drinking with them, all of them becoming closer than just a crew.

He’d consider in the morning after they’d all crashed at Geoff’s place, and Gavin wandered into the kitchen and sat on a bar stool as Geoff passed him a cup of tea. He’d consider telling them, telling _Geoff,_ in quiet moments like those when he forgot the reasoning as to why he had a second name in the first place.

And he’d sometimes say it, too, just when no one was listening. On the back of Michael’s motorcycle, under the helmet and below the screaming of the sirens that were following them and Michael’s own cheering.

“We’ve got em, Mark!”

_Gavin Free._

He’d say it while there was a bottle to his lips, whispering it before taking the next sip as they sat around at some out-of-town bar. In the mirror of his bathroom while he spiked up his ridiculously bleached hair with an even more ridiculously amount of gel.

_My name is Gavin Free._

But for a long, long time, no one in the criminal world knew that.

 

Not until one night, after possibly their biggest heist and they were all celebrating at Geoff’s apartment. Laughing and cheering, all chanting together as the thrill of a successful heist washed over them.

And even Ryan’s got his mask off, his facepaint scrubbed off -

And Jack is on the couch with Ray, and they’re sending him huge grins -

And Geoff and Michael are tipping their drinks to Gavin -

To _Mark Nutt -_

And suddenly it’s too much, because they’re all cheering for Mark Nutt, all congratulating him because he played such a big role in the success of the heist. And Gavin Free feels like an impostor - a filthy _liar -_ and he feels like he shouldn’t be standing there, being congratulated when all he’s doing is hiding behind a facade.

They notice the change quickly, the way that Gavin’s - _Mark’s_ \- smile has faded, and he’s standing there, beginning to hunch in on himself on the barstool he’s sitting on. They falter, all looking at each other uncertainly while Gavin takes a few moments to collect himself, to consider what he’s about to do.

_They deserve to know. It’s not fair - it’s not. They need to see you as Gavin Free now._

_They won’t trust you, though. They won’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth after this. After all, you’ve been lying to them all this time._

_But you can trust them, right? They won’t tell anyone._

He pushes the thoughts away, and finally sits up straight, squaring his shoulders. He can’t help it - he looks to Geoff, finds him and locks on as he tries to get the words out of his mouth.

They’re all so silent, waiting for Gavin to say what it is he has to say. He breaks eye contact with Geoff for just a moment, doubt beginning to cloud in over him - but he forces his determination to come back when Geoff sends him an encouraging motion.

“I - Okay. Okay, you’re probably all going to goddamn hate me after this,” he starts, and then immediately realises that’s probably the _worst_ way to start. “Wait, wait okay, let me rephrase that. I’m not betraying you guys or anything, of course not, bloody hell -”

They’re all a little bit suspicious now. “What is it, then?” Michael asks, his voice guarded, trying to stay calm and patient, but Gavin can hear the concern, the worry, underlying it.

Gavin takes another moment, this time considering his words more carefully. “Just so you all know, this wasn’t my idea. Burnie told me it was for the best, which it was, of course. If I wanted to keep everyone I knew safe, everyone who wasn’t in _this_ business.” He waved his hand around, gesturing at the air with the word ‘this’.

It takes a few moments for the silence to break, in which Gavin is sitting there, idly swinging the chair back and forth in small motions while the others seem to stare, perplexed, at each other.

“I thought you didn’t have anyone with ties outside this business,” Jack finally says, and Gavin shrugs.

“I mean, Mark Nutt doesn’t -” he starts, being cut off.

“He’s fucking speaking to himself in third person and you all call me the crazy one,” Ryan mutters, and Gavin lets the weak smile show before he’s right back into his speech.

“Look, Mark Nutt doesn't have ties outside this business because he’s - well, he doesn’t exist outside the business,” Gavin trails off, unsure of how to explain it.

“I’m not sure I’m following, dude,” Ray says, obviously confused. He’s shooting Gavin concerned looks, probably trying to check if he had a head injury.

“I think I am,” Geoff pipes up. “You’re not Mark Nutt, are you?”

“I am,” Gavin insists, taken by surprise at Geoff’s sudden remark. “Mark Nutt is me. But it’s - I’m not _only_ Mark.”

“So who are you?” Michael asks, looking at him with newfound wariness and Gavin wants to shrink in on himself because he knew this would happen, knew they wouldn’t accept _him._ But he has to try - he’s too far into this now, he needs to tell them.

“My name is Gavin Free.”

Immediately, there’s a wave of relief that crashes over him. There’s just an astounding sense of disbelief that he’s finally introducing himself properly to someone for the first time in _years,_ that he’s not saying Mark Nutt. Right now, in front of the boys, he’s Gavin Free.

And despite all they boy’s varied reactions of shock, disbelief and possibly even hurt, he can’t quite keep the smile from his face.

_I’m Gavin Free._

“Jesus,” Jack finally mutters. “Okay.”

“You’re fucking with us,” Michael declares, getting up from his seat and standing over Gavin, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Well done, you got us good.”

“I’m not,” Gavin insists, shaking his head. “I mean, I probably shouldn’t have waited this long to say it to all of you - but I shouldn’t be telling you at all. Christ, Burnie’s going to have my head.”

Michael falters above him, his hand lowering. “You’re actually not fucking around,” he says, quietly, and Gavin just nods.

Michael doesn’t seem to know what to do, just glances back at the others with disbelief before he steps away, falling back heavily into the seat he was in before. They sit there for a few moments, all of them, stewing over the silence.

Geoff decides to take charge. “Gavin Free, hey? I mean, I think I might like it better than Mark Nutt anyway.”

Gavin looks up and meets his eyes and Geoff just smiles at him - encouraging and _warm_ \- and Gavin just blinks in surprise at the complete opposite reaction he expected before he smiles back.

“So, you have ties?” Ryan asks, and Geoff shoots him a wary look.

“Look, dude,” Geoff says to Gavin, “Thank you for telling us your name. Especially behind Burnie’s back. However, you don’t need to tell us about the ties, I get that. We all get that.”

Ryan throws up his hands in surrender. “Not what I was intending to mean. Just curious.”

Gavin waves it off, smiling. “It’s fine, I trust you guys. They’re family, a few friends. They think I’m over here to film.”

The others nod, still sitting in a disbelieving state. Gavin’s still sitting there with the lingers of a smile on his face.

“Anyone else going to reveal that they do, in fact, have a real name they have been hiding? May as well while we try and wrap our head around _Gavin Free_ ,” Jack offers, and Ryan raises his hand.

“So, my name’s James,” Ryan pipes up, and Geoff sighs a long, heavy sigh.

“Yes, _Ryan_ , we know. Thanks anyway for your useless contribution,” Geoff replies, and Ryan just smirks.

“You’re very welcome.”

And that is basically the end of that.

\--

 

It takes a few weeks, of course, for them to stop stuttering when they go to say Mark, for them to be able to say Gavin without any hesitation or caution. They’re able to keep up the name ‘Mark’ easily, though, out in the field - using it just like a codename. Geoff, however, is able to switch over completely from Mark Nutt to Gavin Free in a matter of days.

When Gavin asked, later, why he found it so easy, Geoff shot him a lazy grin and a shrug. “Dunno,” he replied, “It just seemed right, I think. Mark Nutt didn’t really suit you. Gavin Free has more of a ‘I-have-a-large-nose-as-a-target’ kind of vibe to it.”

“Oi,” Gavin said, indignant, “That’s not very nice, Geoffrey Fink.”

"Lazer,” Geoff immediately corrected, before tackling him to the ground.

 

\--

  
In the following months, things go smoothly. The Fake AH Crew moves up to control the city and underground world - working with many crews that help them control certain aspects of their power.

And Geoff keeps a careful eye on the name Mark Nutt, as well as making sure that the name Gavin Free appears absolutely nowhere in their business. He had made a promise to Gavin, one night, about doing such a thing. It was just the two of them, drinking at Geoff’s apartment while they waited for the others to get back from a hit.

And when Geoff was drunk and Gavin was well on his way down the same path, Geoff turned to him from his spot on the couch to glance considerably at Gavin.

“What?” Gavin asked, feeling Geoff’s stare. The man shrugged, seeming to think over his words before saying them.

“Just - if you’re worried about Gavin Free. I mean the name, the ties to it. Not yourself, obviously, because any self worry you have for yourself is probably not there after riding out of a cargobob on a tricycle -”

“Hey, I had a parachute,” Gavin defended, throwing up his hands. “It was for _science,_ Geoffrey.”

“You also have a death wish. And it wasn’t for science, it was for five hundred dollars Michael had bet you.”

“And I’m still alive and now five hundred dollars richer,” Gavin grinned, but faded when he realised the serious look hadn’t also faded from Geoff’s face.

“Geoff?” Gavin prompted, and Geoff gave him a weak smile before finally continuing.

“It’s just that, if you’re worried about any of that, which you are, because it took you a long time to even tell us your name - We have contacts and can make sure it won’t ever go around. If it does, though, I’ll make sure whoever has ties to your name is safe. We - _I,_ promise. They'll be safe, Gav."

Gavin was silent for a few moments. It was calming to hear those words, soothing the worry that had been unsettling his mind for the past few days. He trusted the crew, trusted _Geoff,_ but there was still the nerves and worry that he'd made a mistake, and those he cared about would be the ones to pay for it.

"Awh," he said, teasingly. "Didn't know you cared, Geoffrey."

And of course he knew Geoff did - cared for all them, beyond just caring about them for their skills and ability to blow things up. He could see it, saw it in the way when Jack got sick with the flu, and Geoff made sure he rested for a few more days even after he had fully recovered - even threatening to burn the man’s safehouses and make sure he could never build again if he didn’t “sit his ass down.”

He saw it when one of the crews they were dealing with insulted Michael - and suddenly, they weren’t dealing with them, and within the week there was absolutely no word at all about the crew. When Ray got injured during a firefight and Geoff had jumped directly in the line of fire to protect him. When Ryan began to sink into a despairing state, Geoff had been the one to stay with the man almost every night for a week, just talking to him until the sun rose.

And it’s going fine, really, for those few months. Gavin Free still doesn’t exist in the criminal world, and still the only ones to know of his real name is the crew.

Until one day, when Geoff is stretched thin for people because Ray and Michael are off working some job helping another crew, and Jack is building up a remote safehouse just in case the heist goes wrong.

The heist is, of course, spectacularly huge. Involving plans with the usual cargobobs, parachutes and motorcycle getaway vehicles - as well as no clothing but flesh coloured morph suits. And it’ll be happening within the next coming weeks.

And they’re stretched thin because they’re trying to pull together all their resources they can for the heist - they’re all working overtime, they’re all exhausted and _tired._ And Gavin’s put out into the field in a desperate decision from Geoff after Caleb ended up breaking his leg _again._

He’s usually not a part of actually going out to meet other crews or suppliers - he usually just runs the background checks, and Michael and Ryan deal with the rest. And usually, in this kind of situation, a solo mission would work - however last time that happened with Ryan, they ended up with an even worse mess on their hands.

(Ryan insists, of course, it wasn’t his fault. That the other crew had forced his hand - because what else is a man supposed to do when his facepaint is insulted?

According to Geoff, the answer is “not steal a fucking monster truck and play human ten-pin bowling.”)

So, Ryan’s no longer allowed on solo missions. Which is why Gavin’s planning on using him as the intimidating figure behind him to place the fear-of-God into the hearts of the other crew so that Gavin can bend them whatever way he wants.

That’s the plan, at least. Of course, things go wrong immediately. In fact, this job alone probably ranks Number One spot on the top of Gavin’s “What the goddamn Christ even _happened”_ list.

All goes fine while they walk up to the base of the crew they’re meeting with - Ryan gives Gavin a thumbs up before standing behind him as an imposing figure. All goes fine when Gavin knocks on the door.

Everything goes wrong immediately when someone answers the door. That though, of course, isn’t the actual problem.

The actual problem is what the man says while opening the door.

“Good afternoon, Vagabond,” the man says, nodding to Ryan. And then his gaze flickers to Gavin, and Gavin knows immediately there’s something very wrong because the man is grinning, suddenly, wickedly -

Like he’s the one with the upperhand here, despite the fact he really doesn’t,  _he shouldn’t_ -

And Gavin didn’t have the time to really check out the crew, didn’t do a thorough background check -

And although he’s met many people like this, who act too confident and cocky and end up dead in a ditch for it, there’s something like dread beginning to creep into his stomach -

“Hello, Gavin Free,” the man says.

Which is when everything just plummets downhill, really.

There’s a silence between Gavin and Ryan, frozen in place as shock twists their insides. The man at the door is grinning, still, because he knows exactly what he’s said, and Gavin hasn’t misheard -

He heard his _name_ -

Ryan seems to kick himself back into it a lot quicker than Gavin. He lets out a muttered “oh, fuck” that only Gavin catches, except Gavin’s brain is really only going _what the Christ oh what the bollocksing fuck what the actual hell, fuck fuck fuck_ so he’s not exactly wondering what Ryan’s up to.

So he’s not at all prepared for Ryan to move, suddenly, grabbing the back of Gavin’s shirt and hauling him backwards. He’s sent stumbling, trying to catch his footing before he hears a gurgle - and he knows immediately what that means, that Ryan’s just gone and slit the throat of a member of the crew they’re meant to be negotiating with.

Although, to be fair, Gavin’s pretty sure any kinds of negotiations are thrown well out the window by now. When Gavin’s able to stand up properly, he glances at the doorway to see the body of the man slung over the railing and Ryan gesturing “one moment” to Gavin.

Ryan disappears inside, quietly and carefully shutting the door behind him, and Gavin stands there for another few moments while his body and mind try and work out what to do.

His body decides “fuck it” and he takes another few steps back, suddenly losing the air in his lungs, like he’s been punched. He doubles over, hands on his knees as he begins to dry heave.

_Not good, oh Christ so not good - fuck, fuck -_

His mind, though, seems not so insistent on giving up. While the thoughts of what might happen to his _other ties_ crosses his mind, they’re pushed back immediately.

_Text Burnie._

He considers Geoff, for a single moment, but figures the man is probably too busy. The heist is too big to distract Geoff from, and he knows that Geoff would discard any thought of the heist if he asked him to.

_Which is why you can't tell him. He's got his own problems to handle. You just handle your personal business by yourself, because Geoff has a goddamn city to run and he doesn’t have the time to interfere in some personal business. Handle it yourself._

He’s standing up straighter, leaning on the railing and thinking, by the time Ryan walks back out. He’s grimly rubbing his knife against his jeans to get rid of the blood, then looks up at Gavin for a moment, considering something. He tucks his knife away, then takes off the mask after looking around.

Ryan’s worried, Gavin notices. It’s not something Ryan shows often, if at all.

There’s a comforting hand on his shoulder now, and Gavin leans into it for a moment before snapping at himself mentally to focus. He’s got to handle this problem as soon as possible, they don’t have time to try and stand around, sorry about the situation.

He's got to assume the worst right now. His real name is out, a free-for-all for anyone in their side of the business, and it's a very real possibility his _other ties_ are now placed at a life-endangering risk without even knowing about it.

“Get anything?" Gavin asks, knowing Ryan would've 'asked' the remaining crew for information.

Ryan hums. "The last one said they heard from a contact. Said they didn't have a deal in the first place, they basically just wanted to brag that they knew your name. They expected I wouldn't kill them because they thought they had the advantage. They thought wrong, obviously."

"Well if they so confidently thought that, enough to not even like _plan_ something in case we did attack, it shows they're amateurs," Gavin says, pulling his sunglasses out of his top pocket and flipping them open and closed.

"Which means," Gavin continues, "That some goddamn _amateurs_ got ahold of that information. While it means it's probably better for us in tracking their source back, it also means the information is most likely easily accessible.”

“We might be in luck for a bit. The guy seemed pretty confident about knowing the information. However they found it out, I’m pretty sure they made sure they were the only ones who knew so they could take full credit,” Ryan reasons, and Gavin considers it as he walks down the couple of steps of the house towards the car, Ryan right behind.

“If it was an outside source, though, they might’ve already spilled,” Gavin replies. “Look, let’s just get back to base and I’ll try and work it out. I’ll get in touch with Burnie.”

“And Geoff?” Ryan asks, and Gavin falters in his step, nearly tripping over himself as a result, but Ryan steadies him easily enough.

Gavin doesn’t reply until he’s got his seatbelt on in the passenger side, Ryan behind the wheel.

“If anyone discovers them,” Ryan says first, gesturing to the body lying over the railing, “I left them a nice little note.”

“How thoughtful. But no, we don’t tell Geoff. Ry, you can’t tell Geoff,” Gavin pleas, turning to face him. “The heist is too big and he doesn’t need a distraction like this. I can work it out, I can work it out with you and Burnie and whoever else. Just not Geoff.”

“Gav-”

“No. We have this, I promise. We can’t let Geoff know. Please don’t tell him, Ryan.”

“Gavin,” Ryan tries again, “We need to. It’s his job - this kind of shit is also his responsibility. Your safety is _his_ responsibility.”

“I think we all know where his responsibilities lie when he’s laughing on the side of the road after I crashed Ray’s Faggio,” Gavin mumbles, then continues louder, “But we don’t tell him. Not until we’re way too deep over our heads, which _won’t_ happen. The safety of my family is my responsibility, and it’s my fault I didn’t check out this crew more. This is _my_ responsibility.”

Ryan grunts, clearly annoyed, and Gavin sighs. “Ryan, just don’t tell him, please?”

“As long as you know the moment we’re in too deep over our heads, it’s probably already too late, but fine," Ryan tells him, casting Gavin a quick glance before his glare hardens out onto the road ahead.

“Thank you,” Gavin responds, sinking into his seat, and Ryan just taps his fingers on the steering wheel unhappily.

\--

 

So the plan to not tell Geoff lasts for less than a day.

The heist isn’t for another couple of weeks, but everyone’s still stretched thin. Ryan’s immediately out from his job with Gavin to another job, leaving him apparently alone at the base.

Gavin’s ahead of work for once, and it presents him the perfect opportunity to start going through information about that crew they met with. Trying to find out who they had connections to, if they had any past connection to Gavin Free rather than Mark Nutt.

There’s frustratingly nothing, and he’s soon texting Burnie for help.

 _**Shit, that’s a problem. I’ll get someone out there to protect them, and I’ll send my best to help you track the source down.** _ That’s the response that Burnie gives him, and Gavin lets out a breath of relief.

Gavin types out a reply, asking if he knows who this ‘best’ is, but ends up deleting it and trying to reword it better, asking simply who the man has sent. His thumb hovers over the send, and he hesitates, looking up.

He looks up at the end of the text just as Geoff suddenly barges in, flinging his door open and startling Gavin so much he falls out of the chair in the mad scramble to push it backwards, away from the desk.

“Ow,” he groans from the floor, having landed in a twisted goddamn pretzel shape, and somehow his nose still ended up down on the ground. “What the bloody hell?”

"What the _fuck,_ Gavin, why didn’t you fucking tell me -”

He cuts off from his raging by the sight of Gavin lying twistedly on the floor. “Um,” is all he goes with, and then sighs. “Gav, buddy, this is not the fucking time for yoga.”

Gavin slowly uncurls from his position, heart still pounding in his chest. “Yeah, well, yoga is a de-stresser, right? Sounds like the bloody perfect time then.”

“Get the fuck up. I’m fucking pissed at you, bud,” Geoff warns, glaring and pointing at Gavin as he stands up.

Gavin stands up straight, tilting his head curiously at Geoff, but also warily. “Bloody knew Ryan would say something,” Gavin mutters, and then Geoff stands there in a shocked silence and Gavin just thinks - oh, well _shit._

“You - you fucking told _Ryan._ You fucking told Ryan and you weren’t going to fucking tell me? Alright, alright what the actual _fuck.”_ He’s livid, marching right up to Gavin who’s trying to backpedal as fast as he can, nearly hitting the damn chair again.

Gavin laughs nervously, not having expected the sudden confrontation. “It’s fine, really, Geoffrey.” His hands are waving about, trying to create a barrier between himself and Geoff.

Geoff stops, and his glare only hardens, pointing a finger at Gavin and then poking him in the middle of his chest with it.

“Gavin Free, it is not fucking fine at all,” Geoff replies, punctuating each syllable with a jab to the chest. “It’s not fucking fine - God, what the fuck, Gav? Why wouldn't you tell me this?"

"Look, I -" Gavin tries to defend himself, tries to explain that it's fine, that he's got Ryan and Burnie helping him, and whoever 'the best' is that Burnie's sending -

Wait. _Wait._

It hits him with a sudden jolt of realisation, that the best that Burnie's sent is standing right in front of him. So Burnie's gone and told Geoff about the situation, and now they're standing face to face and Geoff _knows,_ which Gavin didn't want because he knew this would happen -

Knew Geoff would discard any thought about the heist for him. Touching as it was, there was a nagging thought that getting Geoff wound up in _his_ personal business would make all the planning - all the hard work from all of them just for this heist - would be for nothing. And it'd be Gavin's fault because he didn't goddamn check out that damn crew.

"Burnie sent you," Gavin says, the only thought he can force himself to say aloud. He laughs, mirthless, and Geoff's eyebrows furrow.

"No shit he sent me, he had a feeling you were doing something fucking stupid. Surprise, here we are." Geoff's less livid now, exhaustion beginning to creep into his posture, his voice - and it's weighing down on all of them, these past few busy weeks, constantly working. Geoff particularly, organising everyone and everything for this heist -

And now Gavin's gone and created a big personal problem, making Geoff even more tired and stressed now that he knows. Guilt begins to twist his insides, and he feels his head hang down, staring at the floor.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, all too vulnerable and that's going to be no bloody help, is it, because now Geoff's going to be even _more_ worried, and he's going to want to help as much as he can despite the fact he's already worked and stressed to the max.

There's a hand on his shoulder, and Gavin shrinks away from the contact, shaking his head. "It was my stupid mistake," he tells Geoff, still looking at the ground. "I just didn't think to check out the crew, which is my damn _job._ We could've been done with this whole issue before it even began if I wasn't so damn careless. I didn't want you to find out because this heist is too big for you to be concerned about my mistake, it's not fair to place this problem on you when you're working so bloody hard already. It's my mistake, my problem, alright?"

There's a moment. In that moment, there's only Gavin's heavy breathing as guilt and worry and stress begin to claw into him. Geoff stands silent, and Gavin doesn't dare look up.

Then there's another moment, in which Gavin hears and sees Geoff step up towards him. Another moment, both of them silent and still, and Gavin's still looking at the floor.

In the next moment, Gavin's being pulled forward, his body colliding with Geoff's as the man pulls him into a tight hug. Gavin's limp, arms uselessly dangling at his sides as Geoff turns his head.

"It's not alright at all for you to think that. It's not your fault, it's _not._ Christ, buddy, this isn't on you. Alright? It's not," Geoff mumbles to him, and Gavin takes another movement before his arms move up to hug Geoff back.

They let a few moments pass before they pull away. Geoff's got both his hands on either of Gavin's shoulder, his head tilted down to meet Gavin's eyes.

"Let me help, okay?" Geoff asks, quietly, and Gavin hesitates briefly before he nods.

Geoff pats his shoulders twice before letting go, standing back. Gavin looks up, finally, and Geoff shoots him a faint smile.

"Gavin, you idiot, I'm pretty sure your goddamn family is more important than the heist. Everyone would completely understand if we had to hold it off," Geoff explains, and Gavin just shakes his head.

"They're too busy to get wrapped up as well. Bad enough getting you involved, innit?" Gavin waves off Geoff's next reply before continuing speaking. "But don't hold off the heist. We can sort this out before then."

Geoff frowns, but eventually relents and agrees. "Fine, but I'm putting Kdin on helping."

"Top," is all Gavin has to say, because he's only able to think what an idiot he was, thinking this somehow wouldn't work well if Geoff was involved. _It'll work out_.

Geoff stands there, like he wants to say something more, but stops himself. Gavin tilts his head slightly, trying to work it out, but Geoff is quick to move on.

"So I, uh, I'll get Kdin onto that. And I gotta - yep, gotta get planning. Oh! Also, Matt's been asking about some crew down on the coast, ask him about it and check them out," Geoff orders, but Gavin can see he's flustered - and he's left standing there, confused, when Geoff hurries out.

After a few minutes he pulls out his phone and texts Burnie.

_**Hate you.** _

He gets a reply immediately. _**Told you I'd send the best. You're welcome.** _

 

_**\--** _

 

During the weeks leading into the heist, Geoff starts placing him on easier jobs.

Gavin notices the change immediately. He's still checking out crews, still on surveillance, but he's no longer personally going out and dealing with crews with Michael and Ryan, isn't helping Jack on gathering their resources.

He knows why, too. His spare time is now filled with researching into the crew that knew his name.

And nothing, frustratingly enough, has come up. Not a single damn thing. He's been working every connection and network he has tirelessly for a couple weeks. There's four weeks until the heist, and he's left twiddling his goddamn thumbs because he can't find anything.

Kdin's been helping, but even he's not getting anything. Burnie helped as much as he could, placing the best protection with Gavin's ties. But still, nothing.

Until, that is, exactly three weeks after meeting with the crew that knew his name, and another three weeks to go to the heist.

He gets a message at around 11PM through his email, while he's still at the base. Geoff placed him on researching a crew they were meeting with the next day, checking out some new members. Now, getting an email is nothing new of course. He was always receiving emails; for jobs, deals, Ray sending him some stupid meme, and spam. _Dear God there was just so much spam, even with their better-than-best technology._

Except the subject line catches his attention, and the moment he reads it his stomach sinks, pushing away the meat pie that he had been eating - immediately losing his appetite and possibly feeling like he might throw up.

_Gavin Free._

That's all it says. And the two words send more dread into him than he ever thought possible. He feels sick, feeling cold but heavily sweating. Doesn't realise his hands are shaking until a few minutes later when he is finally able to collect himself, leaning forward over his desk as he puts his hand on the mouse.

"Damn it, come on," he tells himself, willing his hands to steady.

After a while, his breath begins to even out and his hands stop shaking. He takes a deep breath, squaring back his shoulders before he opens the email. The sender is labelled as Anonymous, and the email is easily recognisable as a fake address.

There’s only a set of coordinations in the message. There’s three different locations. He puts them into Google Maps, one at a time.

The first is a location north of the Fake AH base, and at first Gavin doesn’t see the significance in it. It’s just a small convenience store, nothing special about it. Sometimes he’d go visit it and buy all the Red Bull they had in stock.

The second is a location that’s south-east. Again, nothing special, just an ammunition store. The third is a location south-west, again, a simple convenient store.

Gavin starts to see the relevance of the location, confirming it when he prints out the map and circles the three locations. In the middle of the triangle, exactly, is the Fake AH base.

“Shit, okay,” he mutters to himself, sitting back down in the computer chair and scanning over the email again. He runs a couple programs, checking the original location address of the email, but he can see that there’s a re-router being used, changing the location every time he tries to find it.

He forwards the email to Kdin, changing the subject line to ‘Blank’ and adds the note he needs the original location to be found - Kdin could probably find it faster than him, as it was an expertise of his.

The subject line with his name taunts him though, making his insides churn. He was kind of hoping that the source had maybe been one of the crew members, that the secret died with them all poetic-like, but _nope._ Fate liked to fuck with Gavin Free, evidently.

So an outside source knew of it, and Gavin can’t goddamn find them.

He sighs heavily, leaning back in his chair, ignoring the protesting creaks it makes. Then, suddenly, an idea hits him and he’s leaning forward suddenly, shooting forward and reaching out for his phone.

He’s ringing Geoff before he can even really think about it. His hands, he notices, are shaking again.

The man answers quickly. “Gav?” He asks, and Gavin lets himself take a moment to breathe, to calm down. His hands stop shaking.

“Yeah, the prick got into contact. Found my email, sent some locations. Used my name as the subject line,” Gavin informs, his voice quick and quiet, not sure where or who Geoff is with.

There’s a sharp inhale, and then silence for a few seconds. “Alright, you at the base?” Geoff asks, and Gavin affirms. Geoff hangs up with the promise he’ll be over as soon as possible.

Which leaves Gavin sitting in a chair, his computer only showing the open email. He stares instead at his meat pie, now cold and looking more and more unappealing as time goes on. The brown meat oozed out from the last place he bit into, gradually turning into a darker shade of brown as it cooled.  

He wonders that this is apparently where his life has left him. Staring at a brown meat pie as a single email on the screen filled him with dread and panic, all the while waiting for his crew’s boss to come and help him.

_A bit more than a boss, isn’t he? A friend, something more -_

He cuts the thought off. Not the time to be thinking about it.

He begins to worry about his family, Dan - and he knows he shouldn’t be, knows that Burnie has them protected more than the damn Queen is, but it’s sitting there, the guilt and worry heavy in his stomach, and it’s churning and _churning -_

And really, he didn’t mean to do it. But, well, spur of the moment kind of thing. Heat of the emotion or whatever. Either way, the meat pie ends up splattered across the wall on the other side of the room.

He stands there, staring at it for a while, watching pieces of the pie run down the wall, sliding and falling from it, landing on the floor with a soft splat.

He’s broken off by his watching of the pie by the door opening. He hadn’t even heard Geoff drive up to the base, hadn’t even paid attention to the many surveillance monitors - had just stared at the stupid pie running down the stupid wall.

Startled for a second, he jumps, quickly turning to see a worried - and as he notices the pie carnage, very confused Geoff.

“Oh,” Gavin says, sheepishly bringing a hand to rub at the back of his head. “I, uh.”

“Don’t even bother, I just saw Ryan launch a firework at a ticket booth because his car got booked,” Geoff answers tiredly, and Gavin feels the guilt begin to settle in his stomach again.

Geoff notices the change, and he stands up straighter, shoulders back. Alert and ready for business. “Right,” he claps his hands together, “So what’s going on?”

Gavin gestures him over to the computer, where he silently just waves at the screen. He settles down into the chair, exhausted, and Geoff leans over it, one hand over the back of the chair, the other on the desk, looking closely to the screen.

“Can you trace it back?” Geoff asks, frowning at the screen.

“I’ve got Kdin on it,” he replies, and Geoff nods.

“And the locations?” In answer, Gavin just gestures over to the map, letting him look over it, watching the way his fists clench slightly - the only show of frustration - before he’s relaxing, nodding solemnly at it.

“I’m afraid to declare,” he announces, “That we’re the Illuminati.”

He just says it so damn _seriously_ that Gavin can’t help to snort. Geoff’s mouth raises in satisfaction.

“Geoffrey, _no,_ that’s not at all what’s happening here.”

“Illuminati, Gavin. Sorry, buddy, you joined a cult.”

“This is _serious_ business.”

“I’m sorry, what’s that, Jack?”

“Oh, you know bloody well he only says that so he can act all responsible, and then turn it against us by declaring that only responsible people get first servings to the bacon.”

“Mhm, true.”

They both let out a sigh.

“So, you have no idea who this guy is?” Geoff asks him, walking back over to him and leaning against the desk, facing Gavin.

Gavin shakes his head. “No goddamn idea. I thought he was part of that crew, maybe, hadn’t showed up at all until now.”

“No idea how he’d know your name?”

“No, not unless the others spilled. So no, I don’t know,” Gavin answers, leaning back into the chair again, staring up at ceiling.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” Geoff breathes. Then a thought seems to hit him, and he’s standing up straighter, looking at Gavin strangely.

“We never asked this, actually. Did you get go as Gavin Free in the criminal world?” Geoff questions, staring at Gavin seriously.

“No, I -” He hesitates, because he _did,_ in his early, early crime days. Before he met Burnie and went overseas. “Yeah,” he confirms, a groan at the end of the word.

“So, past demons?” Geoff suggests, and Gavin shakes his head.

“We made sure it looked like Gavin Free wasn’t there anymore. Just poof, gone. There shouldn’t be anyone from that long ago coming back now,” Gavin insists. “It’s not possible.”

Geoff’s rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “It’s very possible, Gav.”

Gavin throws his hands up, covering his face and groaning into his palms.

“I’ll let Jeremy know to check into English backgrounds, seeing who’s come over recently and involved with the business. If we can somehow match that with Kdin’s location, we can go hunt this asshole down,” Geoff explained. “We’ll get him, Gav.”

Gavin doesn’t move his hands from his face as he nods. Geoff sighs, tugging his arms down, and then pulling them closer, so Gavin’s forced to sit up - closer to Geoff, who’s leaning slightly forward. Gavin’s pretty sure his lungs have just entirely shut down.

“We’ll get him, alright?” Geoff promises, sincerely. His eyes burn into Gavin’s, who is unable to look away. “We’ll get this asshole, dude, and give him fucking hell. Fake AH style.”

Gavin weakly smiles, nodding. He finds himself believing Geoff, unable to convince himself that Geoff won’t or can’t keep the promise.

Geoff seems to realise he’s still gripping Gavin’s arms, and there’s a hesitation while he seems to consider releasing him. Instead, Geoff’s just pulling the closer, closer - and there’s still that hesitation, that doubt, evident in both of them, because Gavin’s not sure what’s about to happen, but it _could_ very well be a tipping point between them into that _more_ area.

But Geoff decides it isn’t, instead pulling him in for a hug, releasing his arms. It’s awkward, Gavin from the chair and Geoff bent at an awkward angle, and Gavin can’t help but feel the tension and stiffness in Geoff -

Because they both knew it could’ve very well have been something  _more_ -

And Gavin’s not sure if he would’ve done it, but he sure as hell wasn’t pulling away earlier -

But it’s a missed opportunity, and Geoff pulls away from Gavin almost a little too quickly, and Gavin can’t help but feel maybe a little disappointed.

“You need a lift home?” Geoff asks, obviously trying to escape the moment they’re both delaying on, both thinking about the _what-if’s_ and _could’ve-beens._

“Nah,” Gavin replies, looking around. “Gotta clean up that pie disaster. Looks absolutely _minging._ I was going to sleep here anyway.”

“Alright, great, so was I. Had to be back here at the asscrack of dawn anyway,” Geoff informs him, and Gavin nods.

“Sleepover club,” Gavin muses, and Geoff snorts.

“I’ll braid your hair if you braid my mustache.”

“Deal.”

 

\--

 

One pie-cleaned room, and plaited mustache and two uneasy sleeps later, it’s the next morning.

Gavin gets a text, the noise of the chime blaring out on the coffee table, and he scrambles up from where he’s fallen asleep on the couch for the night, trying to respond to it. He swipes the screen with bleary eyes and uncoordinated fingers.

He’s not awake enough to properly take in half the words, but he’s pretty sure it’s from Kdin and it reads out basically Kdin sending him some long-ass explanation about how difficult it was and the lengths he goes to and blah blah, but then at the bottom of the text, Gavin sees exactly what he’s looking for. The original location from where the email was sent from.

Considering the lengths they went to conceal it, Kdin mentioned in the text, it was likely to be a private spot. Something they owned under their name. Gavin’s reading the text with a hint of a smile as he hunts about the kitchen for some tea bags.

Geoff wanders in not too long after, looking more exhausted than he has during the whole week. It’s very early in the morning, Gavin realises, just before six. He hadn’t even checked the time when he got the text, too wrapped up in getting details to care about it.

When Gavin finally locates the teabags, he goes about making a cup of coffee for Geoff. Gavin passes him the phone and mug of coffee silently when the man sits down on the barstool, and Geoff takes a look at the phone first.

His eyebrows raise, reading through Kdin’s text, but then looks up at Gavin with something like a hopeful excitement.

“So, we track down who owns the property, then cross-check with Jeremy,” Geoff summarises, “Then we’ve got ourselves the prick?”

Gavin nods, the tug of a smile at his lips as he turns around to finish making his cup of tea. He sits on the barstool next to Geoff, about to just lean into him like he usually does in the mornings - but the the contact, the hug, of the night before lingers in his mind.

What if it’s too much, like he’s pushing too much for _more,_ and Geoff was the one to pull him into a hug rather than let anything happen - and it’s very, very possible, Gavin realises with a sudden jolt, that he’s been reading it just all way too wrong. Geoff’s not interested in him at all, isn’t interested in the _more._

But before Gavin’s doubts can begin to metastasize, Geoff’s leg swings out and entwines loosely with Gavin’s. Gavin relaxes, and both of them share a small smile before sipping at their drinks.

It’s nice, the two of them. In a base that was about to be packed with activity, it was nice for it just to quietly contain the two of them, next to to each other, simply taking reassurance in each other’s presence.

Soon, though, after Gavin’s put both their mugs into the sink, Geoff’s kicking him out to go shower and change his clothes because he’s got some people coming in to meet with him.

Gavin rolls his eyes before setting off to his spare room. The rest of the day continues on like the morning - quiet and peaceful, even with all the others bustling about.

At night, when Gavin’s busy trying to find out more about the owner of the property, Geoff barges into the room. Gavin, aware of his presence this time, just turns his head as Geoff enters.

“Found him,” Geoff declares. “It all checks out. Pretty sure he lived near the areas you liked to fuck with in your earlier years or whatever.”

Gavin stands up, the dread that had been billowing in his stomach beginning to dissipate from the realisation they might just stop the damn bastard before he did anything harmful. “Who is he?”

“Nigel Barry, heard of him?”

Gavin shakes his head. “Nope, but his name even makes him sound like a prick. It’s so close to Nigel Thornberry but it’s _not_.”

“Well, alright then, _Mark Nutt,”_ Geoff teases.

“So what’s going to happen?” Gavin asks, and Geoff takes a moment to think of his next sentence.

“Well, that’s up to you. He can be dealt with immediately, because I’ve got Ryan on a nearby job. Or he can be dealt with by you, but there’s a little less security in that one,” Geoff offers, and Gavin hums on it for a brief moment.

“Let Ryan do it,” he says. “Don’t want to even meet that bastard. The sooner he’s done with, the sooner my family is safe.”

Geoff nods. “Good choice. By tomorrow, this will all be gone. Thank fuck.”

Gavin can only agree.

 

\--

  
And by the next day, the problem is gone. Ryan’s confirmed the kill, and Geoff keeps a very careful eye on Gavin’s name appearing anywhere, but nothing comes up.

So, with only two and a bit weeks until the heist, Gavin expects Geoff to put him back into work, throwing him back into jobs with all the others now that the threat is gone, now that Gavin Free doesn’t exist outside the six of them in the criminal world, now that his ties are all safe.

Except Geoff doesn’t.

In fact, Gavin’s pretty sure he’s never gone this long without going on some kind of job that involved him _going outside._ But Geoff seems adamant on keeping him inside as much as possible.

And sure, Gavin can spend hours in front of his computer, lost in data and information and unaware of anything except whatever his goal is. But that’s not when Geoff gives him the most _boring_ jobs, nothing at all relating to the heist, like Geoff wants to keep him as far away as possible from it.

He gets so bored he ends up going to his apartment before even midnight strikes, flopping down on his couch and falling asleep before 2AM. And the thing is, two weeks before a heist? The idea of leaving the base before midnight was simply a fantasy, much less sleeping at his apartment before 2AM.

He hates it. The feeling of needing to do more, to be more productive and helpful for this heist, because he obviously isn’t doing enough - they need him on the bigger jobs, need him out on the field, and it’s gnawing at him, that feeling that he’s just not _doing anything._

Walking into the base the next day, he has the hard resolution that he’s going to confront Geoff, going to _force_ him to put him on more jobs. He can’t just sit by and watch the heist go by, knowing he didn’t contribute to it at all.

Except Geoff’s not at the base. Caleb tells him he’s out doing some meeting, and something like irritation flares up in Gavin. _He should be the one out doing the meetings. Not sitting at the base doing goddamn nothing._

The day passes by long and boringly. Geoff forwards him something to check into, but it only occupies Gavin for an hour, and that was after he squeezed every possible thing he could out of it.

Of course, he knows what Geoff’s doing. After all, Geoff’s still keeping such a close eye on Gavin Free appearing anywhere, it’s obvious he’s got Gavin under the radar to protect him from anymore people from his past suddenly arising. Keeping him on the quiet for this heist, not wanting to draw attention, not taking the chance of Gavin Free appearing again.

The simple fact is, though, is that this heist is way too big and grand for Gavin to give up and sit on the sidelines. A day alone with his thoughts leaves him on the conclusion that Burnie has his ties looked after even more after the leak, that they’ll be well protected enough if _something_ does arise again.

He texts Geoff a simple _we need to talk,_ knowing that will probably get Geoff’s response quicker than a simple _put me back on jobs, asshole_. Doing it in person will be better, he tells himself. He’ll be able to tackle Geoff if the man doesn’t relent.

Unfortunately, Geoff is actually wrapped up with the job, and doesn’t respond to Gavin until the next day, when he’s enjoying some online Halo in his apartment. There wasn’t really a reason to go to the base that day - not like he was doing anything.

Geoff asks to meet, of course, at the base in half an hour. Gavin tries to convince himself it’s definitely better talking in person as he goes about the apartment, getting changed. _Easier to get placed back on jobs._

He stands in front of the bathroom mirror for a few minutes, a dollop of hair gel on his fingertips. He stares at it for a few moments before turning on the tap, washing off the gel from his hands, and walks out the bathroom without having touched his hair.

The base itself is only a ten minute walk away, and as he walks he begins to seriously reconsider his choices. He’s never really been one for confrontation - would rather send a text and then just drop all communication ever after that. But, he figures, it’s _Geoff._

He hasn’t really got any other reasoning other than that. Everything in his mind is yelling at him to turn around, to just send that one text instead, but he still finds himself walking into the base.

Gavin’s a bit late, as Geoff’s already got a beer in front of him on the couch, almost half finished with it.

Geoff turns to him when Gavin walks up to him, staring at him, uncomprehendingly for a few moments. Then, suddenly, he’s sitting up with sudden urgency.

“Oh! Your, uh, hair,” Geoff says, unsure of what else to say, loosely gesturing up to Gavin’s head.

“I didn’t bother putting anything in it,” Gavin replies, uncertain, unsure of why his hair is suddenly causing such a reaction.

And then he promptly realises he hasn’t actually ever walked into the base before without ever having not touched his hair. Geoff’s still kind of staring at him, surprised.

“Too weird?” Gavin asks, and then Geoff takes a second before he’s wildly shaking his head.

“No, no, dude, just - okay, a little fucking weird. But a nice weird! Looks less like Mark Nutt and more like…” He trails off, seeming to lose confidence in what he’s saying as he says it.

“Like? Like what?” Gavin says, his hands moving to mess up his hair, trying to put it back into its usual style with no product. He realises that’s pretty much impossible while doing so.

“Like um, more like _you._ Like Gavin Free,” Geoff answers honestly, his voice quieter, unsure. Gavin’s hands move away from his hair while muttering an “ _oh.”_

“It’s good,” Geoff reassures, looking like he’s about to step up to Gavin to get a closer look, but then hesitates and stops himself.

“You wanted to talk about something?” Geoff asks, trying to cover up his falter. Gavin takes a second before he nods.

“Yeah, I did. Uh, probably better if I say it outright, right? Geoff, why the bloody hell aren’t you putting me on any jobs?”

He can tell immediately that he’s right in his assumption that Geoff’s holding him back purposely. The way his breath catches, his shoulders stiffening, his gaze flickering away from Gavin guiltily.

“Well?” Gavin pushes after Geoff remains frustratingly silent. Geoff sighs, sitting back down on the couch.

“Because I’ve got others on the jobs,” Geoff answers, and Gavin’s jaw drops in disbelief.

“Geoff, that’s absolute _bull._ They’re stretched thin, they need help. For God’s sake, you’re doing the jobs that I should be,” Gavin argues, arms flailing about as he gestured around, trying to prove his point.

“I put you on a job a couple days ago,” Geoff points out. Gavin huffs, irritated.

“It didn’t even take me an hour! Usually, this close to a heist, you’ve got me on a job every goddamn hour, not every couple of days. What the hell?”  

Geoff doesn’t answer, and Gavin moves quickly, sitting down close to Geoff on the couch. Trying to push him by getting into his space, making him uncomfortable at the fact he couldn’t avoid the confrontation.

“Geoff, am I not good enough?” He asks, quietly. He knows he is - of course he is, but he’s trying to push at Geoff, trying to get the answer he’s looking for.

Geoff splutters. “No, damnit, Gav. Of course that’s not it.”

“Then what? I’m good enough. You need all hands on deck for the job. So why?”

“Because,” Geoff finally cracks, “Of Gavin Free. You. If you come back up, and someone _else_ pops up, knowing your name, it’s putting everyone in a bad position right before the heist.”

“But my ties are all safe, Burnie’s looking after them -”

“I have no fucking doubt they’re safe, Gav. Nothing from this side of our world will ever touch them. I’m not goddamn _worried_ about them.”

“For Christ’s sake, Geoff, you don’t need to worry about me! We’ve done heists hundreds of goddamn times!”

“Not with _Gavin Free_. If someone gets that advantage over you again, and I know the way you reacted the last time, you’re in serious goddamn shit.”

They’re both leaning forward, speaking in harsh tones - and then Geoff’s leaning too close, trying to push back at Gavin, trying to make him back off - and it works, because Gavin’s getting off the couch, pacing back and forth in front of it for a few moments, trying to calm down.

“They won’t get that damn advantage again. I’ll be more prepared, more careful for anything else. I just bollocksed it up last time. I won’t the next time. Geoff, Christ, you can’t keep me off the field because there’s a _chance,_ a tiny, almost im-goddamn-possible chance, that someone will know me.”

“Fuck, Gav, I’m trying to protect you -”

“You can’t protect me! Don’t you get it, Geoff?” Gavin retaliates, voice rising,  “ _Mark Nutt_ wasn’t about protecting myself. It was only ever about protecting the others I care about, that was it. I realise they’re safe now, and I’ll make sure nothing ever goes near ‘em. But you _can’t_ protect me from my own name, that’s just - that’s just absolutely stupid.”

He lets out a little desperate laugh at the end of it, shaking his head. “I belong on the field, Geoff,” he reaffirms, his voice a lot lower.

Geoff looks at him, considering. He picks up his beer, holding it in his hand as the silence stretches on between them. Then, finally, Geoff sighs. Gives in.

“Yeah, you sure do, bud,” Geoff agrees. “Hell, I think I need you on the field. Right now, I just don’t want you to. Fucking stupid of me, of course.”

“Kind of is. After all, we’re all out there, risking every breath we take. It’s only right I get to as well. I _want_ to,” Gavin replies. “Just because my name might come up now doesn’t make it any more dangerous.”

“I could argue that.”

“I’ll bet you on it?”

“Fuck no.”

Gavin laughed. “Yeah, I thought not. Think I lost all my money to Jack anyway. Didn’t think he’d actually attempt it, much less actually be able to do the barrel roll with the jet.”

Eventually, Gavin sits back down as Geoff takes another swig of beer.

“So, I’m on jobs?” Gavin asks, making sure. Geoff reluctantly nods.

“Yeah, fucking suppose so now. Think I got Ryan heading out soon, you can accompany him. He’s been antsy lately, I’m not convinced he won’t blow up half the coast just for fun.”

Geoff slowly sits up from his laid-back position on the couch. Gavin’s got his elbow on the armrest of the couch, fist squished up against his cheek.

“Please don’t bet him to do that, by the way,” Geoff pleads. “I’m just not fucking deal with that headache. There will actually not be enough liquor in this damn base for me.”

Gavin just shoots Geoff his best ‘innocent’ smile. “Not a problem, Geoffers.”

Geoff groans. “You’re a fucking problem, Gav. You’re like _the_ problem.”

Gavin moves, leaning back, about to say something before Geoff cuts in again. “You’re not pissed at me, right? Like I know that it was a real asshole thing of me to do, but you’re not pissed, right?”

Gavin grins slightly, shaking his head. “I was, I’ll admit. But no, I get why you did it an’ all.”

Geoff leans forward, looking at Gavin. “Right, because you know your stupid life is important to me. You and your stupidly big nose.”

And then Geoff’s moving closer, leaning almost directly over Gavin. There’s a tugging thought in Gavin’s mind - the fact that they could be _more,_ and maybe before wasn’t the best time to think about it, and it definitely didn’t cross his mind while he was pissed off.

But now, with the knowledge that his ties are safe, that _he’s_ safe, that Geoff is - at least, for now - there’s a comfortable ease in which he thinks about it. That the _more_ is something he can think of right now, with Geoff casually resting almost on top of him, that it’s something they can _become, right now -_

And it’s almost too easy, the choice that he makes. To reply to Geoff with a sincere, “you mean a lot to me too, you donut.”

And then to lean up, slightly, one arm behind him to hold him up, one coming up to clench at Geoff’s shirt. He waits a moment, letting Geoff go with an out if he wants to -

But the moment passes, and then Geoff’s leaning down as well to meet Gavin. They pause, their faces so close that Gavin’s almost scared to breathe, and then Geoff closes that distance.

Gavin’s pretty sure he does actually forget to breathe for a moment there. His heart is pounding, his fingers almost losing their grip on Geoff’s shirt. He pulls it together quickly enough, kissing back a little bit awkwardly - because, hey, it’s not exactly familiar to him. _Yet._

Geoff pulls back first, but only slightly. A gentle hand runs through Gavin’s hair, and he smirks, his mouth moving to Gavin’s ear.

“You know, I really like it like this,” he whispers, just before he pulls right back, and Gavin just _shivers,_ but has the thought that maybe he should leave the hair product locked away from now on.

“So,” Gavin begins, but then Geoff’s holding up a hand as a thought hits him.

“You know, you have a meeting to go to with Ryan in about - oh, four minutes,” Geoff notifies, all too nonchalantly and Gavin has any previous thought of him thrown out the window, the only thought being _I’m going to crash everything you have ever loved._

As Gavin scrambles up in a mad rush to at least look half decent for the meeting, Geoff just laughs.

“Come on now, Gav, don’t you know? We’ve got a heist to pull together.”

\--

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!~ :)  
> I have a couple of fics on my tumblr which I haven't uploaded to my AO3, and you can find them on my blog: youre-my-bois.tumblr.com/tagged/kayla+writes  
> Also big thanks to Jos once again for helping and generally being great <3


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